DisclaimerThis
story is a work of fiction, meaning it did not take place. It
contains sexual content involving persons under the age of consent
which may
be inappropriate for you or illegal where you live. If this is
the case, please read no further. I do not condone
the
actions or choices of the fictional characters contained within this story.

He stood in
front of
me on the step of the pool and I saw his water soaked suit was pressed
against his crotch. I couldn't determine the size or shape of his
equipment because of the folds of the garment, but I could definitely
tell he was a boy. He reached down under the legs of his shorts
and ran his fingers along the liner, getting everything back in
place. I
shook my head with the realization that my hand had just been in those
trunks a couple minutes earlier and I hadn't touched his stalk.

Well,
there's always
tomorrow...

Into Ian - Chapter 2Lying in bed that evening, I
could hear Bonnie breathing gently beside me, her conscience obviously
clear. I'd fucked Bonnie hard, releasing the sexual tension that
had built up throughout the day, with images of Ian filling my
head. I pawed at Bonnie like I had Ian. I even tried taking
her in the ass before she protested. When we were finished, she
was grinning and breathing heavily, and she asked what had gotten into
me. That was twice in one evening which, while not unheard of,
was considerably less common in recent years.

The guilt came rolling into my mind, creeping up on me in waves.
For the first time in my life, I had crossed the line. No,
several lines, actually, and all within the space of a few hours, and
yet I was already planning for the next
time...

I tried to justify what happened in my mind, and I even tried to blame
Ian for what had transpired. I knew children had sexual feelings
and desires, but Ian's antics were off the charts. And it crossed
my mind that I hadn't seen anything sexual between Ian and Josh.
So what did that say about me? Was I so obviously attracted to
younger boys that Ian felt comfortable seducing me? And did others see
the same thing? That couldn't be, I thought. People trusted
me with their children and I trusted myself with them.
Well, until that day, of course.

No matter how I tried to justify it, in the end I had crossed the
line. Me,
the adult. I could have stopped it all at any time, and I should
have. But I couldn't. Where was the self control that had
gotten me through 15 years of marriage? Fifteen years of
respecting all of the boundaries, and now I could never say that
again.
And what if Ian told someone? His Mom or Dad. Or
Josh?

"Oh, God, what have I done?" I asked myself, barely a whisper, rolling
over on my side. Only Tigger heard me, and I heard his tags
jingle as he came over to the side of the bed, placing his chin up on
the
edge. I rubbed his nose and his tongue sneaked out onto my
palm. I flipped back over onto my other side where, in the dim
light, I could see Bonnie's silhouette. She knew, of course--
just not everything. But how much?

I wondered what would happen if Ian told. I would have to
deny the accusation, of course, because of the consequences, though I'd
certainly
lose my job anyway. But were my actions so great a transgression
that it warranted prison? I tried to convince myself Ian wouldn't
tell anyone because he wouldn't want to be seen as 'gay' by
anyone. And I somehow found a little comfort in that sick
thought. "I'm a fucking sociopath," I ridiculed myself. I
tossed and turned,
these thoughts churning through my mind like a bad storm, until I
eventually
fell into a fitful sleep.

I dreamed I was teaching class and
that I was difficulty getting through my lesson. I was standing
at the blackboard, showing the class how to work through a calculus
problem, but I kept getting everything wrong. I couldn't tell at
first
what was causing me to be distracted, but when I looked back to the
front row, I noticed Ian was sitting in his desk wearing only a Speedo,
raising his hand. The white drawstring was clearly displayed
against the light blue swimming suit, which was stretched in front by
an enormous, flaccid boy cock. The suit was dry except for the
area around the head of his penis, which was damp. I somehow knew
he had just returned from the bathroom, and a drop of pee had soaked
through his Speedos making the tip of his dick somewhat visible
through the
thin material.

"Yes, Ian?" I called, noticing there were no hairs in his armpit as he
lowered his raised hand.

"May I give it a try?"

"Give what a try?" I asked him.

"The math problem," he giggled, standing from his desk. I looked around
the classroom, concerned the other students might notice this boy was
only wearing a very small swim suit. The others seemed oblivious
to the situation, and so my attention returned to Ian. Or, more
precisely, to the wet tip of his penis as it showed through the
suit. He reached down and fumbled with the drawstring, gently
pulling the Speedo forward a little, and I could see his tan line
clearly.

"Uh... sure, Ian," I stuttered.

He giggled again and stepped toward me, extending his hand. I
handed him the piece of chalk and he stepped toward the
chalkboard. From behind, I could see a little of his ass cheeks
peeking out below the leg of his Speedos as leaned back against his
desk. He began writing figures on the blackboard, but I couldn't tell
if he was solving the problem correctly because I was distracted by his
bum. His hand slid down his side, and his left hand slipped under
his suit atop his bottom, pushing the material down slightly from the
top of his ass. His hand shifted under the stretchy fabric to his
hip and I could hear the chalk scratching and squeaking on the board.

At that moment, I looked down to my lap and noticed my pants were
unzipped and my cock was sticking out the front, precum oozing down the
front of my shaft. My hand was gripping my shaft tightly and I
immediately became aware that I was masturbating myself in a room full
of prepubescent students. I don't ever recall being harder in all
my life.

I looked up when I noticed the sound of the chalk against the board had
become quiet. "Ewww..." Ian exclaimed. "Look what Mr. Adams
is doing!" he said to the whole class.

"Pervert!" I heard Jason, the class troublemaker say. He was
somehow standing next to me.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Heather from the seat next to me. "He's beating
his meat!"

Ian moved back toward me. "Don't worry, Heather. He won't
touch you. You're a girl, and he only fucks little boys.
Isn't that right, Mr. Adams?"

"No!" I screamed. "I don't, I'm not..."

"He touched me," Ian announced to the class. "Yesterday. In
his pool. He stuck
his dick in my ass."

"NO!" I cried. "I didn't do..."

"Let's kick his ass," called Jason. "Come on, guys!" I felt
dozens of pairs of hands hoisting me from the desk, pulling me to the
cool tile floor. Jason grabbed my exposed and erect cock,
pulling it
angrily downward and pulled a knife from his pocket. "Let's cut
his dick off," he said angrily, and I heard the class cheer him
on. My arms and legs were pinned and Ian sat across my chest and,
despite my situation, I noticed I was still very erect as Ian
pushed his Speedo into my face.

"Go on, dirty old man. Suck my cock!" Ian pressed his damp
crotch into my face and I could smell the faint scent of urine and
Lycra. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bonnie, standing
there by the classroom door shaking her head, her arms wrapped around
Josh. His head
was bent down but I could see tears running down his face.

"Help me!" I called out to them. "Help!"

"There's no help for you," Bonnie said sadly as she pulled Josh away
toward the door.

Ian scooted down my chest a bit and leaned down toward me, his face so
close I could feel his hot breath on my face. "There's no help
for you, Mr. Adams. None at all..." I could feel someone
jerking me off down below, and the sound of children laughing and
taunting. I tried holding back, but I felt my orgasm approaching
as I felt something enter my ass. A finger perhaps?

"I'm not a pervert!" I called out to the room, but at that moment I
felt my cock start to spasm.

"Oh, fuck! The faggot's cumming on my hand!" I heard Jason
exclaim, sounding both excited and disgusted at the same time.

As I pumped wave after wave of cum, Ian leaned forward, his mouth up
next to my ear. "I'm sorry, Mr. Adams." And then, he licked
my nose. Why would he do that? Behind him, I saw Jason
holding his cum-soaked hand in front of him.

"Oh, that's just disgusting," I heard Jason saying. "His cum is
all over me. That's it. I'm cutting his dick off."
I felt some twinge of pain on my cock, and I knew he was going to do it.

"Ian!" I called. "Don't let him!" Ian just leaned back in
to kiss me, but again he licked my face instead.

I awoke, crying, my head full of cobwebs. I was lying on my
stomach with Tigger licking my nose from the side of the bed. I
sputtered and pushed him away from me and lifted my head. I heard
the sound of the shower as I reoriented myself to my
surroundings. I moved to sit up in and noticed my flannel sleep
shorts were soaked with cum. "What the hell?" I thought. It
had been years since I'd had a wet dream, and they'd never been that kind of dream.

I got out of bed, slipping my shorts off and swabbing my sopping crotch
with them. I moved over to the dresser and pulled out a new pair
of shorts and slipped them on. I went back to the bed and cleaned
up the mess I'd made with the old shorts and made the bed. For some
reason, I didn't want Bonnie coming out of the shower and discovering
I'd had a wet dream. I went out to the laundry room, still in a
daze, and placed my shorts in the bottom of the laundry hamper. I
felt like a teenager again, with all the guilt and confusion that came
along with it.

I was still in a haze, pondering the dream as I padded into the
kitchen.
Josh was sitting in his boxers at the breakfast table, finishing a bowl
of cereal when he saw me come in. "Mornin', Dad." he said.

"Good morning, Josh."

"How'd you sleep?" he asked as he lifted the bowl to his mouth,
drinking the last of the milk. I noticed how similar his body was
in many ways to Ian's and I felt dirty. I could see the fly of
his boxers was slightly open, as boxers often are, but from this
distance I couldn't see anything. I averted my eyes and reached
into the cabinet to get a bowl and set it on the counter.

"Not well," I told him. "I had bad dreams." He stood from
the table, bringing his bowl to the sink and rinsed it.

"Really?" he asked. He put the
bowl in the dishwasher as I stood at the counter, images of the dream
fading but flashing in my mind. "Did you have a nightmare?"
he asked as he moved over to me and put his
arm around my torso.

"Yeah," I told him. "I guess I did."

"Tell me about it," he said.

"I can't really remember," I lied as I turned around to hug him.
At that moment, I noticed his nose wrinkled slightly and he looked down
toward the matted bit of hair I had below my belly button. He
hugged me, but made sure he didn't press himself into my cum stained
belly. I didn't know how acute his sense of smell was or if he
knew what that smell was, but I could
have died.

He turned around, though, and leaned his back into me despite the
crustiness there. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his
taut
belly. "Rub your belly for luck?" I asked. This was sort of
a ritual for us, one so old I couldn't exactly remember the origin
except that it had something to do with his once chubby belly and
Buddha. As I rubbed his belly, feeling his little six pack, he
reached up with his left hand and moved my right hand down further,
just below his belly button and sort of holding it there, the tips of
my fingers against the waistband of his boxers. This was not part
of the ritual and I was a little confused. My mind briefly
flashed to Ian, sitting on my chest in my dream, but I pushed that
thought away quickly. I started to move my hand, but he pressed
it slightly to keep it there.

I looked down past his chest and I could see my son, my Joshua, had
what appeared to be a little firmness that pressed his Tasmanian Devil
boxers out at the buttonless fly. I was mortified with the
thought that his penis looked as if it was about to pop out of his
boxers. "Ian's nice, huh?" he asked me.

"Um, sure," I replied. "He's a nice boy. I'm glad you've
got a new friend. Are you missing Jimmy?" I asked him,
trying to change the subject.

"Yeah," he said, but I felt he wasn't being quite honest. As a
father, you just know these things. He reached up briefly with
his right hand and
adjusted his penis so that it was sort of pointing off to the right,
saved from popping out the fly, but not from creating a little bulge,
and I could tell he was probably at least half erect. As I've
said, I've never been sexually attracted to my son, but of course I'd
been curious about how he was developing; that's only
natural. But I could feel a stirring in my groin that scared
me to death. Was he thinking of me or Jimmy? Or Ian?
Surely it wasn't me. Was he
just entering that period in his life where his penis grew with no
discernible explanation? Was I thinking of Ian or Josh?

"I need to get ready, son." I patted his tummy beneath my hand
and squeezed his shoulder lovingly with my left hand.

"Me, too," he said and released my hand. He headed off for the
stairs quickly, pressing at his groin as he scampered off.

I lingered there a few moments, leaning against the counter, thinking
about my life. I had worked very hard to build a 'normal' life
for myself, for my wife. And for my son. And there I was,
pressing my slightly fluffed cock down after a bizarre interaction
with Josh. I couldn't blame it on sexual frustration-- I'd
reached a point where sex two or three times in a week was a great week
and yet I'd cum several times in the last 24 hours, including an
embarrassing wet dream not 30 minutes earlier-- and a rape dream at
that. I felt as if I were on some scary theme park
ride I could not control; that I didn't seem to want to control.
After
all these years, had I just been repressing my emotions toward my
son? It just didn't feel right to me, and I was certain I was
just transferring my new and confusing, uncontrollable feelings for Ian
onto my
son. Maybe I was going through some sort of mid-life crisis or
something. Or maybe a nervous breakdown. Whatever it was, I
didn't feel I was really in control anymore.

I decided I wasn't really hungry, so I put my bowl back into the
cupboard and headed back to the bedroom. As I entered the master
bedroom and turned toward the sitting area, Bonnie was getting dressed,
facing the mirror in just her panties. She was putting on her
bra, but looked up into the mirror as I rounded the corner. I
smiled at her and she smiled back at my reflection before returning her
attention to the task at hand.

"How did you sleep, honey?" she asked me. Oh, I didn't even want
to go down that road, but the shock of the dream had already mostly
worn down. I stared at her ass, nice and firm, and my cock
responded instinctively. I admit, I did compare her to Ian.

"Fine," I said, not really even considering what she'd asked, but
answering automatically. As she finished twisting her bra into
place, I walked up behind her and pressed my firm cock up against the
crack of her ass while reaching around her waist and running my hands
along the silky cotton of her panties.

"Mark!" she said, "What's gotten into you? I've got to get ready
for work. I've got a
closing in 90 minutes!"

"I just need a few minutes of your time," I said quite
uncharacteristically as I began to ease her panties over her
hips. A good woman knows when it's futile to resist her randy
partner, and she was definitely a good woman. And this was
definitely one of those times.

"Mark! The bedroom door's not even closed." She pulled her
panties back up.

"So what? Josh is in the shower anyway," I said playfully, but my
thoughts flashed to Josh running a washcloth over his rock hard
stomach, the water cascading down over his soapy 12 year old
body. I
think I liked the idea of the door being open, the risk of being
'discovered' by... I bit my lip, trying to break my train of
thought. "Ok, I'll close it," I conceded, pulling her nearly
naked body over toward the bed before closing the door.

"Just a quickie," she said. "I really need to get going."

"I'll do my best," I told her in my best Cassanova impression. I
slipped my shorts down, my six inch cock slapping my belly like I was a
teenager again. I knew I wasn't the biggest man around, but she'd
never complained. In
fact, she'd often said she was never into large cocks and that she
preferred smaller ones because they were easier to handle in certain
situations and I knew just how she felt. I'm certain I would have
always had my doubts except she'd told me that long before we had ever
considered a sexual relationship-- and long before she'd ever seen my
cock.

"Oh, my," she said, and I knew I had her full attention now as she
licked her lips. She scooted up on the bed toward the pillows as
I kicked my shorts off my feet and climbed onto the bed, kissing my way
up her freshly shaven legs,
as smooth as... well, smooth. I moved into position on top of my
wife, rubbing my cock against the smooth material of her panties,
sucking on her erect nipples. I was not in any sort of romantic
mood-- I was in heat. I reached down and pulled her white panties
aside, exposing her pussy as I slipped the head of my dick into her
moist tunnel, reveling in the warmth of her. I slowly eased my
cock into her, giving her time for the juices to fully flow, and she
moaned and mewed like a kitten.

I slowly started easing in and out as I suckled at her breast, her hand
caressing my face and the back of my head as I did so. My cock
felt so full, so hard, and I think she noticed. Bonnie felt
tighter, my cock more swollen, and I was sure I was penetrating deeper
than normal.

"Oh my..." she moaned. "Come on, baby." I loved it when
she called me that, and we'd role-played a bit on the whole Mommy thing
a few times, which I'd always found amusing-- I could barely
stand my mother. But those types of things come out over a
relationship that lasted as long as ours. It wasn't often, but
she knew it was an
occasional turn-on
for me, and I assume for her as well. I say I assume, because we never
discussed it,
honestly, but it worked for us in the intimacy of the bedroom and in
the heat of the moment. She could've also been trying to get me
off sooner, but I didn't really care at the moment. Our plans
were the
same even if the methods weren't.

"I'm gonna fuck you hard," I said, and I followed through on that
promise. I pounded her for several minutes longer than I'd
planned, bringing Bonnie to a satisfying orgasm, but I still couldn't
get to that plateau. As I waited the few moments required for her
to
recuperate, I thought again about trying to take her in the ass, but
dismissed the thought as futile since she had to leave. I fixated
on the memory of Ian
sitting in the pool, his
hands on my shoulders, and my hands under the water, inside his
shorts. My humping motions resumed full force, pounding away in
desperation. She reach down and clutched onto my hips, squeezing them
hard and pulling me even deeper into her.

As I felt my climax approaching, I could tell she was already beginning
her second. My thoughts of Ian were instantaneously replaced by
the vision of Josh in the shower again, but this time I was in there
with him, my arms wrapped around his tiny waist from behind,
washing his lower belly with the washcloth. "Rub your belly for
luck?" I heard myself say, the words echoing in my head as I felt my
orgasm begin. It didn't originate from my cock, however, but from
the area between my
balls and my ass. It was a dull, slow contraction, almost like
the onset of a muscle cramp. The pulsing radiated forward and
backward at the same time. I could feel my cum rising into the
base of my shaft and my anus begin to twitch in the same rhythm.

"Oh... my... God..." I heard myself almost scream, some part of me
forgetting my son was probably just outside the door while another part
knew to restrain myself. Perhaps it was because I had just cum
shortly before and this was the rare (for me) second orgasm that was
always better than the first, but I had one of the most powerful
orgasms of my life. I could actually feel the muscles in my shaft
flexing, ever so slowly but powerfully. I was reminded of the
very few times back in college when I had cum with my lover's cock
buried deep in my ass, and the feeling was the same.

As the throbbing subsided, I rested my head on Bonnie's bosom, the
clean scent of her body wash filling my nostrils as my lungs sucked in
air. I could still feel my engorged cock inside my wife and a
tingling in my bum. I remembered my last thoughts as I had
approached the point of no return, and I guiltily squeezed my eyes
shut, trying to force the thought away.

"I need to go," I heard her say, and it sounded like a voice calling
from outside a dream. I pulled out of her and rolled over onto my
right side, my gooey, half-hard cock sliming the sheets. I think
I drifted somewhere between sleep and consciousness, hearing Bonnie
cleaning up, then getting dressed. I finally heard the door open.

"Make sure you don't fall back asleep," I heard her say.

"I know..."

"And thanks, honey. That was unexpected, but... nice."
She paused, and I thought she was going to tell me to get up.
"Maybe we should have Ian over more often," she said as she headed
out the door, closing it behind her and leaving me shocked and
confused.

***

I made it through my first few classes that morning in a bit of a
haze. Although I hadn't slept well, I had been teaching long
enough to
make it through just fine. I'd even pushed Bonnie's comment-- and
Ian-- out of my mind for
the most part, until fourth period. Like yesterday, Ian was the
last student to enter the room, but this time he came in right after
the bell had rung. I wondered if I should even mention it.
If I treated him differently, I wouldn't be doing anyone any favors,
but what if I made him angry and... well, I didn't want to go there,
but I had to reestablish the teacher-student roles.

"Mr. Conaghan," I said somewhat sternly. I was seated at my desk.

"Yes Mr. Adams?" He raised his eyebrows as if he had no idea
why I was calling his name.

"Do you have a note explaining why you are late?" He furrowed his
brow slightly and shook his head.

"No, Sir. I have P.E. before this class and I ran as fast as I
could. I promise," he said solemnly. "I didn't even have
time to take a shower, and I was still late. The gym is on the
whole other side of the school," he added for emphasis." I
noticed again today the hair of his sideburns was matted down with
sweat. Against my will, my mind flashed to Ian in the gym shower,
but I forced the thought away.

"I think you'll need to speak with Coach Carr about that," I told
him. "If I keep a student too long, I write them a note."
He looked down at his desk. "A lot of students have gym, and they
find a way to make it to their next class. Please see me after
class." I was now second guessing myself. Was I
intentionally keeping him after class? Preposterous! I
would have done the same... actually, I would have just marked them as
tardy.

"But..." he started to protest and then, thinking better of it, he
stopped himself. "Yes, sir." The class was silent, and they
were all staring at me. I saw Jason smirking at his desk and,
remembering my dream, I wanted to slap that smirk off his face.

Ian looked sullen throughout the entire class, and even shot me a
couple dirty looks. I was beginning to feel especially guilty and
that, combined with my lack of sleep, caused the class to be one of my
worst. I was even corrected by Jason, that would-be class trouble
maker, when I made a mistake on one of the math problems I had written
on the board. This was only fifth grade math, after all, and I
was screwing it up in front of the students I was supposedly
teaching. The consequences of my decisions were quick in coming,
and I knew I had to gain control.

When class ended, the kids headed off for lunch. All but
Ian. He remained in his desk, not even closing his book.

"Ian," I said to him after the last kid left, the door closing behind
her, "I'm sorry I had to come down so hard on you." He said
nothing, but he looked me directly in the eyes. "Do you
understand?"

"Yep."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes," he said tersely. He looked away from me toward the
door. "No," he corrected himself, "actually I don't
understand. "I didn't mean
to be late. I didn't want
to be late. And it wasn't even my fault I was late, but instead
of just giving me a tardy, you're making me miss lunch. And I'm really hungry." This was not
how I saw this playing out.

"I'm not going to keep you from lunch, Ian. I just wanted you to
know that in the classroom, well... I just wanted you
to..." I fought for the right words. I wanted him to know
that, just because I had... touched him, I guess, I couldn't let him
get away with anything. And yet I couldn't really say that.

"Oh... I get it," he said, grinning as if he'd just figured
something out. He stood from his desk and moved over toward mine,
facing me with his back to the door. He reached down to the
zipper of
his shorts and pulled it down-- right there in the classroom! He
reached into his fly and started moving his fingers around inside,
fishing his penis out.

"I didn't keep you after class for... for that,
Ian!" I swallowed hard and looked past him toward the door.

"Oh!" he said, and extracted his fingers. "Oh, man!" His
face was red and he fumbled to zip up his shorts.

"Is this something you do with all your teachers?" I asked jokingly,
but I admit I was curious. This was overtly sexual behavior for a
ten year old. I realize it must have sounded like an accusation
when I said it, but I was bewildered.

"No!" he said, and I could tell the question had embarrassed him.
He was still beet red. "I've never
done anything like that before. I just thought, um... I
don't know what I
thought."

At this point, I was torn. I really did want him to unzip his
shorts and pull them down to his ankles. He hadn't read that
incorrectly at all. I didn't want to send him away confused, but
I couldn't do anything here in the classroom. Or could I? I
had always had a fantasy about messing around with a boy in my
classroom. Gone was the man who was tossing and turning with
agony and guilt last night.

I reached out and pulled him toward me by his hips and I think I
startled him a bit. As I held his hips, I leaned over to whisper
in his ear.

"You were right. I do want to see it, Ian." I was shocked
to hear myself say that, but when I lifted my head back up and looked
into his face, his was smiling nervously.

"Now?" he asked me, and he grinned as he nervously glanced over his
shoulder toward the door.

"Just a peek?" I reached my hand over to the front of his shorts
and massaged his little lump through his shorts. I could feel his
bulge behind that fabric, but he didn't feel like he was hard.

He looked over his shoulder toward the door again and then returned his
eyes
to mine. He tilted his head down toward the hand that was
fondling him. I could definitely feel him getting hard now, and
my own erection was throbbing in my jeans.

"May I?" I asked him, and he nodded his head slowly. I unbuttoned
his shorts and looked into his face to make sure he was still ok with
what I was doing. He glanced back up at me quickly before looking
back down. I moved my hand to the side a bit, and I could see his
khaki shorts were poking out a bit. At the top of his shorts, I
could see the waistband of his underwear where the button was undone,
the word 'GAP' printed over and over again along the edge. I
pulled the edges of his
shorts out a little and saw he was wearing blue camouflage briefs, and
my cock pulsed.

After briefly checking the door again, I reached my trembling hand to
his zipper and started to tug it down. As the zipper inched down,
his boy cock slowly pressed the blue camo out through the
opening. When the zipper reached bottom, his little khaki shorts
started to slide down his hips.

"Hold them up," I told him, and he put his hands along his hips,
propping up his shorts. I marveled at the blue tent in front of
me and my mouth went dry, causing me to lick my lips. Ian saw that and
I heard him giggle very quietly.

"You like it, huh?" he asked, and it was my turn to nod my head.

"Very, very much, Ian." I reached my still-shaking fingers to the
top of his waistband and pulled it toward me, peeking inside.
Inside its warm hideaway was a thick, three inch cocklet sticking
straight up, as hard as can be, and topped with the softest looking
foreskin I could have ever imagined. "You're not circumcised," I
said. His glans was entirely covered by his little hood, so much
so that it formed a little ruffled cone extending past his tip.

"Sorry. I know it's weird, but my parents..."

"No, no... it looks delicious," I interrupted as I licked my lips
nervously, and he giggled nervously again. I peeked around at the
door
again and, seeing nobody there, I pulled his undies down in front, down
below his balls. They were as smooth as glass, and he there
wasn't a hair to be found anywhere on his groin. "Can you cum?" I
asked, hearing the lust in my own voice as I said it.

"Kinda," he whispered, and I was intrigued. Did he mean he could
achieve orgasm, or produce semen? I knew some boys could
ejaculate before they were eleven, and I'd heard kids were hitting
sexual maturity earlier these days. But I had my first full
orgasm at ten
and a half and that was eons ago, so I knew it was at least
possible. I didn't ask for clarification,
though, not wanting to spoil the surprise entirely.

I reached up with my thumb and index finger, gently sliding his skin
down his shaft. I watched intently as the tight skin eased down
the
head of his penis, unrolling and stretching over his tiny knob.
At this distance, I could smell his slightly sweaty boy cock and
bottom. As his skin unfurled past his head, I could see he was
not entirely clean, but it somehow excited me even more. The
aroma of his groin was causing my passion to rise, and I was at
real risk of blowing
my load in my jeans.

"I just came from gym," he said, preparing an explanation of his
slightly manky winky, but I cut his excuses short by leaning forward
from my
chair, onto my knees, and taking his little root between my lips and
along my tongue. This was the first cock I'd tasted since before
Ian was even born, and it felt like fireworks were going
off in my mouth.

I heard Ian hiss above me as I sucked his succulent little pole into my
mouth. My nose pressed against his rock hard belly below the hem
of his navy
polo shirt, and I breathed his scent deep into my nostrils. "Oh
my gosh!" Ian squealed as I rolled his baby schlong across my tongue,
tasting heaven.

I wrapped my lips around his shaft, pulling his foreskin back up and
over his glans, manipulating his tip with my tongue. I reached my
hand into the gap of his fly and ran my finger under his balls, along
his cotton-clad
pucker, and Ian shuddered. I pressed the material up into his
butthole just a bit, twirling my finger as it gently assaulted the ring
of his sphincter.

"Oh, oh, oh," he cooed as I fellated the child. I felt the
pressure of his little pee pee building, and I knew he was close.
And at just that moment, I thought I tasted the tiniest hint of
something sweet,
a taste that transported me back to when I was just a boy.

I felt his penis bucking and twitching in my mouth, and I prayed for
his precious elixir, but it was not to be. He pressed his
hands on the back of my head, his cocklet just too sensitive to
continue,
right as I reached the point of no return. I stood quickly,
unzipping my jeans and released my throbbing, dripping
member in
front of Ian. In front of a ten year old I'd only met
yesterday. After only two strokes, I stepped to the side and
shot
a hot load of man cum onto the tile floor beside his shoes. The
look on
Ian's face was the real definition of shock and awe. "Wow!" was
all he could say. His eyes shifted from my cock to the splotches
of cum on the floor and back to my cock again.

I stood there with my cock sticking out between us, breathing heavily,
and I noticed his little nail was still standing tall with his hood
back in place. He was
staring at my cock in disbelief when he let go of one side of his
shorts, which slid partway off his hip, and started fondling his little
pecker. He wasn't masturbating it, but sort of squeezing or
pinching it a
little.

I stuffed my sticky, mostly hard cock back into my jeans and zipped up,
the little window in the classroom door feeling like an accusing and
staring eye. Following my lead, Ian began to pull the front of
his underwear up, when I put my hand out and caressed his little rod
for another moment or two before I bent over and kissed him on his tip
and then squeezed his firm rump. He zipped himself up,
but there was still a slight bulge visible through his shorts.

I smiled at him, and he returned the smile, but his facial expression
told me he was a little embarrassed of what had just taken place.
"You shot a lot..."

"Ok," he said, and I wondered about following him to the
bathroom. But
now that my mind was clearer, I knew that was ridiculous.

I reached over and hugged him, and he didn't shy away, so I bent down
and kissed
him on his cheek, right at the corner of his mouth, but the peck was
not returned. That only increased my sense of guilt. "Are
you going to come by the house this afternoon?" I
asked him.

"Yeah. Probably." He was putting his sutff into his
backpack at his desk.

"Great," I said, but I was both excited and nervous about that for
several reasons.

"Ok, well. Bye, Mr. Adams," he said after zipping up his book
bag. He paused a moment, shifting slightly and holding his penis
through his shorts with his free hand. I wondered if he wanted me
to follow him to the bathroom, but my guilt was growing thick at this
point. Not only had I just committed a felony or two, I was
leaving the boy confused and offering nothing to soothe whatever guilt
or other emotions he was feeling; I just couldn't.

"Goodbye, Ian," I told him, turning toward my desk to get some
tissues. I heard him walking toward the door, and my mind was
racing to think of something 'grown up' to say. As I turned
around, I saw the classroom door swing closed behind him. All I
could think about
was how absolutely reckless I was becoming. Sucking a ten year
old
boy's cock in my classroom during lunch, and masturbating in front of
him? I had a feeling this scene in my classroom today would
thrill and haunt me for the
rest of my life. And I knew one thing for certain-- it could
never happen again. Ever...